Archives for posts with tag: pain and pain management
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Pain and Practices

July 22, 2024 //
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My morning is off to a rough start. I slept poorly (my Traveling Partner slept poorly, too). I woke with my headache, worse than usual, and although I slipped away quietly, early, for my walk without waking my partner, the Anxious Adventurer was up soon after. He rattled about sufficiently noisily to wake my partner, who commenced pinging me with information about his pain, his responses to new medications and details he’d like communicated to his doctors. It’s a new day.

… It was good weekend, generally, but there’s a lot of bitching coming up in this bit of writing (maybe skip it)…

After finishing the conversation with my partner, I could finally get out on the trail. Nearby construction had already gotten going. My tinnitus is loud in my ears and the morning seems a very noisy one. I feel irritable and frustrated.

… I breathe, exhale, and relax. I pull my focus back to the rising sun, the silhouetted trees, and the scents of summer meadow flowers.

… My Traveling Partner pings me again…

I sit down to handle the additional communication. Looks like it is going to be a steady effort through the day if I’m going to get what I need for myself from the limited time a day has to offer. It’s the most complicated detail about caregiving for me, personally; continuing to manage my self-care and support my own needs. I don’t get much help from my partner on that presently; he’s pretty consumed by his needs and also needs my help. He’s injured and his surgery is still weeks away. It’s a hell of a puzzle. I feel inadequate and wholly made of fallible human stuff.

… This solitary morning time is so precious to me. It has become an essential component of my self-care, and is often literally the only time (outside a bathroom break) that I can call my own over the course of a busy work day. Today, it’s looking like I’m not going to get much out of it…

…Ping…

I resume my walk, feeling distracted, as if waiting for the next ping. The sun is up. Daybreak has passed. The sun rise is over. I missed my chance to watch the full moon set. Fuck. I take notice of my negative thoughts and aggravation, and let it go. Again. I breathe. Exhale. Walk on. I pull my focus back to my steps, my breath, the sensations of this body, my awareness of the world around me. Clusters of yellow and white flowers sway above the meadow grass. A turkey vulture rides the air currents overhead. The oaks along the trail stand tall overhead as I walk through the grove at the edge of the meadow.

I take my focus off my pain and irritation, and focus on the trees, the horizon, the colors of the morning sky. I keep walking, making mental notes, observations, for later writing when I get to my halfway point – I can just see the bend in the trail up ahead.

…Ping…

Pain is a difficult challenge. It’s very much part of the human experience and it also very much sucks to experience it. Pain “shrinks our world”, and unmanaged pain is a pretty horrible experience to have to endure. Do OTC pain relievers help? Sometimes. What about Rx pain relievers, do those ease pain? Sometimes. Even so, it’s more a reduction in pain or loss of awareness, than any kind of real solution. In fact, just about every potential remedy for pain is only somewhat helpful. Pain tells us something is wrong with this fragile vessel, and it’s pretty fucking difficult to silence that warning without fixing the underlying cause (which may not always be possible at all). Physical therapy, chiropractic treatments, meditation, acupuncture, CBT… 100% of all of these have helped someone at some point, and I promise you that none of them is 100% effective, ever, for anyone living with chronic pain. I personally use most of the available options, based on the circumstances of a given day, trying to find the best balance, trying to strictly limit my use of prescription strength pain killers, because…consequences. There are reliably tradeoffs. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I walk on.

…It doesn’t make things easier that American healthcare is so completely broken where treating pain is concerned…

I do my best to manage my pain skillfully. Sometimes I just have to “look past it” and do my best to prevent pain from calling my shots. I’m not even saying I’m always successful. My results vary. I live with pain. A lot of people do. Sometimes all I have available to manage my pain is pure seething rage, resentment, and force of will. It’s hard. I keep at it. My results vary.

… My Traveling Partner pings me again, I stop again to read his message…

My partner’s whole world is his pain today. I find myself struggling to prevent his pain from also becoming my whole world. (I’ve got my own to deal with too.) Another breath. Another step. How do I get the emotional distance I need to maintain my resilience for this marathon…? I tried to communicate a boundary regarding this time that is so critical to my wellness… I definitely don’t feel heard*. My irritation competes for my attention with my love and sympathy for my partner. He’s suffering and there’s so little I can really do. It sucks.

…”Put your own oxygen mask on first.”… Super good advice, but if the traveler next to you is clawing your mask out of your hands while you try to put it on (metaphorically speaking)… What then? I mean, in a legit air emergency whereupon oxygen masks are required, that would be a very different question. Here, now? I rather frustratedly allow my self-care to be completely undermined in order to care for my partner. It’s not healthy or sustainable, I just can’t see myself not being there for him. Caregiving is hard.

I sigh as I write. My Traveling Partner pointed out that I could have chosen to ignore all his messages until I finished my walk. It never even occurred to me; he’s home injured. It doesn’t sound wise to ignore a message if there’s potential he could have fallen…

Today feels like the sort of day that will require every practice, every moment, and may test everything I have learned about managing my pain, my mental health, and my ability to care for another human being with love and compassion. I don’t feel ready for this sort of test, and I know my results vary.

… Maybe I should take the day off work to deal with this shit…?

… I can at least begin again. Sometimes that’s enough. (Your results may vary.)

*Later, after I got back to the house, my Traveling Partner made it very clear he did hear me, does get it, recognized the boundary I set, supports my need to set that boundary, understands the necessity of my taking care of myself and the value of that quiet morning time for my emotional and physical wellness… all the things. He’s also having his own experience, and doing his best. Sometimes this shit is just hard. I feel heard, supported, and loved. It’s a journey, and we’re on it together.

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Categories breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, health, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Something More About Perspective

June 6, 2024 //
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I got my walk in early. I started just at daybreak on this mild Spring morning. I walked a bit aggressively, lost in my own thoughts, eyes fixed on some point ahead,  but without really seeing. I felt cross about the way my morning started (with my Traveling Partner’s aggravation over being wakened and struggling to breathe, as I finished dressing to leave).

…Took me awhile to let it go…

I had wished him well and expressed my hope that he could get back to sleep. He didn’t seem to think he would and expressed that in a way that kept our exchange on my mind as I walked along, over-thinking it unsatisyingly.

…I seriously could have done a better job of letting it go, and letting small shit stay small…

I didn’t really begin to enjoy my walk or adjust my attitude until after he pinged me a cute sticker of a little cat tucked in for sleep, indicating he was going back to bed. Damn, I love that guy. At that point, I was easily able to settle down and sort myself out, with a sigh and a smile and a feeling of gratitude. Shit could be a lot g’damn worse in life (and love).

…We’re each having our own experience…

When I sat down to write, I took a quick look at the “page stats” for this blog (it’s not about numbers so much as insights into what people choose to read, and I often find new relevance in old writing). I found myself re-reading a post from almost 18 months ago, and reflecting further on perspective, change,  and the importance of self-care. It gave me real clarity on the morning, and restored my sense of perspective generally, and how good things truly are. Reading a relevant older post is another way to “be there for myself”, and practice good self-care, and another way to regain perspective. (I say a silent “thank you” to the reader who read that post yesterday; reading it this morning was helpful.)

…My Traveling Partner is on his own journey, having his own experience, and taking that at all personally isn’t a helpful approach to partnership…

Here. Now. Perspective. Sufficiency.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a pretty morning. The temperature here is a comfortable 50°F or so. The sunshine lights the blades of grass and the trunks of the oaks in the grove where I sit perched on a picnic table enjoying the sunrise. It’s still quite early and I am not rushing back to the house. I’ve got a cup of coffee and this quiet moment to myself and I am enjoying it.

…Sometimes the best thing I can do to take care of myself is to simply take a few quiet minutes to breathe and reflect…

Later today I will take my Traveling Partner to an appointment with a specialist. I hope there is promising news about what can be done and what the long term prognosis for his recovery from his December injury may be. It’s hard watching him suffer and struggle. I feel so helpless so often. I definitely want to do more to alleviate his pain and discomfort than I seem able to. It’s not about me, though; I just want this human being I love so dearly to be okay.

I sigh out loud and catch myself picking at my cuticles anxiously. Yeah… still human. Still prone to worry and stress. I breathe the fresh Spring air deeply and exhale slowly. I can smell the hedge roses that are on the other side of the parking lot adjacent to this park where I am sitting, and the scent of recently cut meadow grass. I enjoy the smell of Spring, grateful that my seasonal allergies are nothing like as severe as my Mother’s allergies, or my Traveling Partner’s. They’re mostly pretty mild, and seem very specific to certain local flowering trees. That time of year is already beginning to pass.

I am in rather a lot of pain this morning. It’s been an issue all week. I take the medication I have for it. I cope the best I can. I remain unwilling to let my pain call my shots and I try to “just live my life” in spite of it. My results vary. I make a point of not complaining much about it, to the point of generally mentioning it only in passing, if I mention it at all, in conversation. It’s not that I find this to be a helpful strategy, it’s just that there’s nothing to do about it, really, that I’m not already doing, and I am very much aware that my partner is in a great deal more pain than I am. I don’t want to make that about me. I just want to do my best to support and care for him while he’s injured and working on recovering. He knows I am in pain, it’s a chronic condition. No point making that “a thing” – right now it’s just a distraction.

I sit with my coffee and my thoughts awhile longer. Soon enough it will be time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Roses, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Managing the Moment

May 26, 2024 //
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I’m taking a few minutes, having a mid-morning, post-waffles, cup of tea (Smith’s No.120 Jasmine Nectar, which has a lovely delicate fragrance). The tea is quite good. The moment is… meh. It’s okay. Not great. Not terrible. Just a moment, and it’ll pass and I’ll move on to the next one. I’m in a ferocious amount of pain this morning, which colors every experience in spite of knowing how pointless and unhelpful it is for that to be a thing. I keep having to make a point of not allowing it to seep into every crevice of my awareness and experience. My results vary.

…The waffles were good, though…

I don’t feel inclined to finger-point, lay blame, or even “troubleshoot” this moment (or any previous, this morning), it’s not even about that. We’re each having our own experience. I’m pretty sure my Traveling Partner is in every bit as much pain as I am in, maybe more. That likely colors his experience, too. Probably best to simply acknowledge our individual and mutual discomfort and not take any of that at all personally. I sigh. Breathe. Exhale. Relax. (Fuck I wish I weren’t in so much pain, though… but at least the waffles were good…)

I think about the dishes that need doing. The laundry. Tidying up my office space in preparation for working from this location, generally. It didn’t sound like much to tackle when I woke up this morning. It seems almost too much, now. Nothing has changed but the amount of pain I’m in, and my perspective on the day (that is probably a lot to do with the pain I’m in). I’m glad it’s a long weekend… tomorrow may be better, but regardless, it’s at least another day to work on these “getting back to the day-to-day” sorts of details. I’ll be ready by the time the work week begins. I sure feel tired now.

I think about the wildflowers out on the coast and the ones on along the trail this morning. It’s interesting what a different assortment they are. I look for pictures, and only just now realize I didn’t take any this morning. I sort of just rather purposefully walked down the trail to “there”, and then back. It wasn’t a grim trudge, but it wasn’t notably joyful. I was just… existing. Doing a thing. I was already in pain.

I hear my Traveling Partner laughing in the other room. That brings a smile to my face, even though he’s been a bit cross this morning. He enjoyed the waffles, though – those were good, this morning. It was lovely to share that experience with him. Good waffles. 😀

…The waffles are gone. They were delicious. The moments pass. One by one they go from a moment of being to nothing more than a recollection. Impermanent. A small piece of a larger whole. Any given moment, however good, however difficult, is another chance to begin again. It’s something. It’s enough.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Sitting Where I Am

February 26, 2024 //
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I’m sitting quietly in my hotel room. It’s well-past any sort of reasonable time (for me) to have a cup of coffee. So… I make a cup of tea. I sip it slowly, hoping it doesn’t cause a restless night, enjoying the warmth of it in my hands, anyway. I breathe, exhale, relax, and wonder how things are over at the hospital? It’s past visiting hours. I stayed with my dear friend for much of the day, after arriving shortly after visiting hours began. It was a good day for both of us, relative to where we each are in our life and circumstances. I took a break at one point to make room for the painful intimacy of important conversations about where and when and things of that sort. I’m not “decision-making family”, so excusing myself seemed the most appropriate way to proceed. Aside from that, we spent the day together, my dear friend and I, while family and her bestie came and went, and even as my dear friend napped, finally getting some restful sleep (she’d been complaining about the sleep deprivation practices that are not uncommon in hospitals and suffering from a lack of healthy deep sleep for some days). Eventually, family and my dear friend’s bestie returned from errands and things that could not be put off for later, and visiting hours began to wind down. I made my goodbye’s all around, and headed back to the hotel.

…I think about something my Traveling Partner said to me in a message earlier today, in response to my bitching about the bare bland beige hospital decor, “Hospitals treat diseases, not people.” I considered the small things I saw not being done (that surely could have created a more healing environment…) the lack of windows with views in patient rooms, the lack of art on the walls, the lack of anything at all to do while… waiting. People in hospitals do a lot of fucking waiting around. People – patients – in hospitals are often incredibly bored. That’s so unhealthy for human wellness, particularly when there is no way to alleviate it. Nothing to do. I remember it from being in the hospital, myself; the endless maddening boredom. Then there’s something hospitals could do without… the fucking endless beeping of various monitors and machinery. G’damn, it was bad. Ceaseless. Inescapable. Nerve-wracking. Through cat-nap after cat-nap, and wrecking every opportunity for deep sleep, I saw my dear friend’s brow furrow with irritation when yet another round of beeping commenced, often in some room several doors down the corridor. Oh sure, those alarms are intended to get attention, but the nurses are human, too, and eventually they tune out the beeping, especially the commonplace beeps that indicate something, but not something urgent. They can tune them out, over time, but how many patients can? The patients haven’t been forced to listen to it long enough to learn to ignore it. If it’s going to get ignored anyway, why the fuck is it being permitted to continue to destroy the rest that vulnerable ill or injured people need so very much?? I admit it – I just don’t get it. It’s fucking dumb, and it’s also rude. While I’m on about this shit, for fucks’ sake don’t let people’s minds just atrophy while they’re struggling with their health! Make a point to engage their minds, and give them a way to entertain themselves! Be patient enough to wait around for the answer to a question you’ve asked, yes even if that patient has trouble speaking or expressing themselves! Wouldn’t you want that? Oh, and also? Fucking let people sleep. I can’t stress enough how fucking annoying it is to finally fall asleep in spite of pain or discomfort to be wakened by a cheery loud voice seeking to take vital signs or worse – to ask if you’re sleeping. Hospitals are not helping with that shit. Good grief.

I’m cross on my dear friend’s behalf. I sip my tea, and think awhile. I breathe, exhale, relax, and then let that go. It’s evening now, and soon enough I’ll be getting packed to the trip home. My dear friend is in the care of family and friends who love her greatly. She is so very loved.

I sit quietly, listening to my tinnitus. My Traveling Partner and I exchange “stickers” back and forth in messages: kisses, hugs, hearts, fun little animated characters showing affection . It delights me, and I feel loved. I’m eager to be home, and back in his arms. Unexpectedly, I noticed how much pain I’m in. The weather turned rainy this morning, and my arthritis flared up. I’ve stay caught up on my Rx’s this entire detour from the routine, which is not always the case when my routine is broken. Health-wise, I’m feeling pretty good, generally, so the pain caught me a bit by surprise (though it isn’t truly surprising). I sit with that awareness for a moment thinking back over the day; did I take my pain meds? Those are not “on a schedule”, and keeping track is very important. I look in my pillbox. Huh. I find myself surprised to see that I hadn’t found it necessary to manage my pain earlier today, at all. I fix that, hoping I got to it early enough to avoid fucking with my sleep. It’s been a long day, filled with “emotional labor”. I’m tired, and it seems likely I’ll sleep just fine, particularly if I don’t let myself get spun up over “what if I don’t sleep?”. lol

I take a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. Actually? I’m already tired, it’s just too early to go to bed. I send more kisses to my Traveling Partner and pick up the book I’m reading… seems like a pleasant evening to read awhile, before calling it night. Tomorrow will be soon enough to begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, grief, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, women

Another Day, Another Chance

February 26, 2024 //
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I’m waiting for in-room hotel coffee to finish burbling its way to being an actual cup of hopefully drinkable coffee. Oh, I know; it’ll likely be pretty crappy, but the hope exists as its own thing, and it’s worth cherishing for its own value. Hope is a good feeling. I like feeling it. Anyway, if you ask someone who doesn’t like coffee in the first place, they’ll tell you how bad it reliably is – all of it. lol. Perspective, too, is a thing that exists.

Yesterday was interesting – and precious. My dear friend woke from her unhealthy repose in the hospital, and we shared some laughs and some lucid conversation. It awoke hope in me, and put my drenching sorrow to rest, and it feels good to connect with a dear friend, even under such trying circumstances. I was also fortunate to get to visit with others dear to her, in one case gently renewing an old relationship that had fallen to circumstances, which was both unexpected and delightful. The friends who had gathered last summer, when I made my trip down the coastal highway in July, gathered again, too, and although the confines of a hotel room were not so merry as relaxing in my dear friend’s home, it almost felt like that party, once again. It was fun. It was also purposeful, as these gathered loved ones were gathering to care for my dear friend together and in turns. I am, in a sense, simply passing through their experience of saying goodbye, to have my own. All for her, this quite wonderful and very dear friend.

I upended my plans, after talking to my Traveling Partner; one more day, another chance to visit, and also a means of taking some pressure off myself to hit the road again almost immediately. It was frankly surprisingly hard on this fragile vessel to make the drive down so directly, all in one shot, in ways it definitely would not have been 3 decades ago. I sit with that thought awhile, and sip my coffee. (Is my coffee as terrible as it seemed likely to be? You don’t know that unless I tell you. Something like the pain of strangers; it probably exists, but you aren’t likely to know unless the information is explicitly shared with you. I don’t know why that feels share worthy – it’s a dark bit of perspective.)(Yes, it’s awful. lol)(The coffee. The coffee is awful.)

I woke at my usual time, this morning, after a pretty good night’s sleep. That bodes well for the trip back tomorrow. I woke missing my Traveling Partner. Missing home. Missing a reliably good cup of coffee on a lazy weekend morning, and I am rather awkwardly aware that I’ve “missed the weekend” entirely. lol I breathe, exhale, and relax – it’s an unimportant detail of the sort that can spin up a heartbreaking amount of pointless stress, so I let that go. Ridiculous bullshit is not welcome this morning. It has proven to be helpful to be open to “success” even in times of sorrow, and I’m welcoming this dawn as I welcome any other; a new day, a new beginning, a new bunch of opportunities and chances. Place your bets, roll the dice – but don’t get attached to the outcome, and don’t bet what you can’t afford to lose. Put that way, this “game” that is life looks so damned easy!! I know, it isn’t – it’s more complicated than a game, and the last hand is always a reminder that we are mortal creatures.

…Maybe this cup of coffee isn’t so bad after all? Perspective…

I’ve learned some other things visiting with my dear friend. Things about mortality. Things about nearing the end of a life. Things about dignity and comfort. Things about health and wellness. Things about… risk management. I’m glad I came down to visit my dear friend. Fucking hell I’m going to miss her, and this visit gives me much to reflect on, myself, for my own purposes, too. I chuckle to myself to realize that even now, under these circumstances, she continues to teach me things I need to know in that gentle and unassuming way she always has. I sip my coffee contentedly. It’s still quite early. I’ve got time to get a walk in, and maybe do some yoga before breakfast. Certainly, it’s time to begin again.

… The clock is ticking. What will you do with the time that is left to you?

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, grief, health, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Relationships, The Art of Being, women
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